He Shoots, He Scores
by Kitsubasa
Summary: After being forced to Mexico against his will by Rex, Noah thought his day couldn't get any worse. Then Federico showed up. Now Noah needs to re-evaluate that stance; and possibly also his relationship with Rex, which seems to be taking unexpected turns.
1. Involuntarily in Mexico

"You know, Rex," Noah grumbled, leaning back further into his seat. "When you said you would get me out of my Calculus test, this was _not_ what I had in mind." Rex shrugged in response, nonplussed, and continued to drink his flat soda.

"This—I mean, are we even going to be back by tomorrow? I have to hand in my English essay! I have to, you know—well, you don't, do you—not fail school, and all that?"

"Come on, Noah, the helicarrier's fast. I'll have you home by Wednesday at the latest," looking over his shoulder, Rex grinned at Six. "We'll have him back by Wednesday, right Six?"

"That's not for me to guarantee. It all depends on Holiday's results," Six replied, casting a glance at the scientist sitting next to him.

"I'm sure we'll be back by Wednesday, Noah," Holiday said. "Don't you worry about school, in any case: your absence has been explained to the principal, and I'm sure your English teacher can wait another day if she needs to."

"See, Noah?" Taking a seat next to him, Rex slung an arm around Noah's neck. "Everything's under control."

"Ah, yeah. Unannounced trip to Mexico? This just _screams_ good planning," Noah shrugged Rex's arm away, and raised an eyebrow.

"Why do you doubt us, _mi amigo_? Since when have I ever lead you astray?"

"Do you really want to ask that question, Rex? Because I can name multiple incidents," Noah's glib response made Rex jerk away awkwardly. The guy had a point.

"Just because the last time I got you out of Maths ended in disaster doesn't mean that this one will too, okay? Faith, man. Faith," as Rex spoke, Holiday and Six noted the less-than-happy expression on Noah's face and decided that the best choice of action was to make haste out of the room. Rex couldn't help but draw his mouth downwards as his backup abandoned him in the field with no hope of escape.

"Disaster? I still have scars from that time! I nearly destroyed half the city! I think that 'last time' maybe counted as more than a disaster, Rex,"

"That only happened because you decided to ram Van Kleiss with a forklift, Noah. I deny any responsibility," Rex folded his arms to punctuate the end of his sentence.

"You're trying to den—"

"Argument over!" cutting Noah off, Rex threw his hands in the air and shot back onto his feet. Noah adopted the position Rex had previously been occupying: crossed arms, hunched shoulders, scowl. "Let's just try and enjoy Mexico, okay?" Noah's tense posture started to loosen at that.

"… So, why are we going anyway?" He inquired, Rex beginning to look embarrassed for not explaining sooner.

"Holiday needs to take some samples from that were-EVO I told you about,"

"Let me rephrase: why am _I_ going," somehow, the idea of going to Mexico solely to meet Rex's childhood-friend-super-special-were-EVO-bro didn't excite Noah. He wasn't sure why that was; maybe it was the awkward third-wheel vibe he knew would kick in the moment they touched ground? Maybe it was the fact that he had spent hours on that essay, and he knew Mrs. Colombo wouldn't take well to it being handed in late? Because it would be. With Providence, any promise to 'be back by Wednesday' was to be taken as a grain of salt because an EVO would always attack and Noah would always have to play straight man to Rex's zany combat schemes, or go and fetch something stupid—info on the EVO's long, lost pet cat or maybe on the current lunar cycle—to safely deactivate the thing: and Noah was sick of playing straight man, thank-you-very-much.

"Because I needed someone to come and watch that were-EVO's soccer game with me," Rex looked at Noah as if to say this was perhaps the most obvious fact in the world.

"We're going to go and watch some friend of yours play soccer," Noah said, "In Mexico. And I might fail English for this."

"But Noah," Rex's voice seemed to click into a different mode—suddenly he wasn't about explanations and arguments, he was about sweet talking Noah into not being mad, and damn was he going to do it well. "You can't make a bro go and watch sports by himself. That's just not done."

"You wouldn't watch the national table tennis tournament with me,"

"Come _on_ man! I think I fulfilled the 'table tennis' quota for life when we took on those twins,"

"Playing and watching are entirely different things! You missed an amazing opportunity, Rex!"

"And you'll be missing an amazing opportunity if you don't come and watch Federico's game. Guy's a pro at the sport—and this is his first game on a real team in like, three, four years? You'll be kicking yourself if you don't watch, Noah," the boys shared a glance. "Kicking. Yourself." Something about Rex's dogged determination made one of the edges of Noah's scowl momentarily twitch upwards. Rex, ever observant, decided to match this flicker of a smirk with a grin of his own.

Several moments passed, Rex apparently imitating the Cheshire Cat and Noah wearing a face that could be most optimistically described as doubtful.

Then another twitch of amusement flashed across Noah's face.

"… Fine. I'll watch the game. But no matter what, Mexico is not ranking highly on my 'Places to Be Today' list," Noah finally conceded.

"And you promise not to keep complaining about the essay?"

"I'll try not to, but I make no guarantees," Noah said. "I had to read Wuthering Heights for it. Do you know how painful that was?"

"What _is_ a wuthering height?" Rex said.

"Exactly my point," unfurling into an open, upright position, Noah, for the first time since boarding the helicarrier that morning, smiled.

The odd thing is that, following that, he didn't stop smiling for quite a while. Noah and Rex continued to trade quips about heights and their wuthering for the next half an hour or so as the carrier made its way into Mexican airspace, then shifting the topic to Mr. Buchiner's beloved pony as they began their descent.

By the time they met the ground, the friends were discussing the poor fare at the cinemas lately, and how much they wished the fantasy genre hadn't died out with the nanite incident. When people're turning into griffons and ghosts in real life, it suddenly seems a lot less necessary to invent worlds involving them running around—sad, but true. All the money was in horror movies these days, even though they constituted more as slice-of-life what with the way the world was heading. And lately, _only_ these so-called horror films had been coming out. Not exactly thrilling viewing when your job revolves around your spectacular ability to punch these supposedly horrific creatures in the face.

"Seriously, none of those movies are any good," Rex made certain to voice that opinion. "Hey, you know another thing? What happened to good old romance movies? Like, Fernando loves Stephani but she rebuffs him for Roberto? Remember that one?"

"How could anyone forget it when they're forced to watch it _every other weekend_,"

"We wouldn't have to watch it every other weekend if there were better movies playing. I mean, if they made it now it would be 'Fernando loves Stephani but then her sudden acquisition of three extra faces comes between them, eventually leading to Fernando shooting her in the head because it's the only way to deal with these things'. That just doesn't have the same appeal," Rex said. "And by 'the same appeal', I mean 'any appeal'. What happened to good old-fashioned love triangles? It seems like the only place I can find them is on _Ida y Vuelta_."

"No comment," Noah threw his arms up in an 'X' shape at the mention of Rex's favourite soap opera.

"Oh," Rex gazed at Noah, unimpressed. "I forgot about the _Ida y Vuelta _ban."

"We're friends, Rex," Noah groaned. "But there are limits to even our deep connection and discussing your weird TV shows is where I draw the line."

"Fine, reject my spicy _telenovelas_. But know you are missing out on the best of mid-afternoon television,"

"The words 'mid-afternoon television' cause me nothing but _fear _and _dread_," almost thankfully, Holiday chose that moment to approach the troublesome teenagers.

"Hate to interrupt, boys, but we're disembarking now,"

"It's fine, Doc. All you interrupted was Noah's rejection of _telenovela_ as a genre," turning to Noah, Holiday nodded in approval.

"Glad to see you have half a brain, Noah," to their side, Rex gawped.

"Holiday, I'm shocked. I thought you loved those shows almost as much as you loved me! It was the foundation we built our relationship on!" Clutching one hand to his heart, Rex feigned injury.

"I'm sorry, Rex, but your obsession with them was tearing us apart," hand on one hip, Holiday delivered her snide reply without missing a beat. "It was me or the TV, and you chose the TV."

"I can change! I can _change_!" Rex cried, and Holiday gave a quiet, patronising laugh.

"Too little, too late, my love. Now the only thing you can possibly do for me is get off the carrier, preferably with Noah in tow," as their short role-play filtered back into reality, Rex gave a saddened bob of his head and then beckoned for Noah to follow him away. The pair made their way down the landing ramp and out onto the street. As the late-morning sun bore down on them, Noah was forced to remove his jacket, startled by how temperate it was despite being mid-Autumn. Rex followed suit, and tied his around his waist.

"I don't know how Six is going to survive in his suit," Noah said, as he caught sight of the green-clad man standing a few meters away, expressionless and covered in sweat. Six, despite maintaining careful neutrality in both face and pose, was clearly uncomfortable in the heat—and if he was already taking such obvious efforts to not show his pain, then it was a safe bet that he would not be taking any preventative measures to save himself from char-grilling under the sun. As Noah pointed out Six's gloomy situation, Rex's mind turned out a brilliant idea, probably the first one he'd had that day (depending on who you were to ask).

"Noah, I bet you twenty that Six crashes before we get home," Rex proposed, pulling a bill out of his pocket to prove that yes, he could match this bet.

"The Ninja Hobo? Give in that easily? He's not going to be in great shape but I doubt anything short of tranqs could knock him out. You're on," slapping Rex's free hand in agreement, Noah wore a challenging smirk. Sensing mischief, it seemed, Six chose that precise moment to approach the boys. "But try and influence anything and you're dead, Rex. We've just got to see this play out."

"See _what_ play out?" Six's eyebrow was already practically nailed to the top of his damp forehead.

"Oh, just the game this afternoon," Rex said, sounding almost convincing. "Noah's already betting against Federico's team. I don't know why I even brought him."

"Really," that damnable eyebrow stayed in place. Noah knew that Six wasn't buying it, but gave Rex an annoyed shove anyway to try and add realism to the scenario. "Well, you'd better hope we find Federico before the game, then, because otherwise he won't be playing at all. Providence business takes precedence over youth soccer. I trust you both realize that."

"I'm sure they do, sir," a voice suddenly piped up from a dozen or so meters away, as a teenage boy stepped out from one of the side-streets. "And so do I. Which is why I made certain to arrive on-time and at the specified place."

Federico wasn't quite as tall as Noah had imagined, falling just a little short of Rex's not-inconsiderable height, but his smile matched descriptions. Clad in a blue soccer shirt and matching a pair of knee-length shorts to some old sandals, Federico was definitely dressed in a more weather-appropriate manner than any of the Providence members, and Six seemed to prickle with envy as he neared. Noah noted the newcomer's shaggy black hair, broken nails, dark eyes… an overworked, dishevelled boy, nothing unexpected. What was unexpected was actually the feeling he brought out in the young blonde.

The feeling of, against all expectations, jealousy.

Stopping beside Rex, Federico flashed Noah one of those oft-described smiles, and Noah felt a quiver run through his stomach. Here was a studious, commendably sporty boy with a serious outlook on life; sent to replace Noah by some cruel god. And worse, the newcomer was polite—a trait Noah had never been lauded for—and punctual. All that he needed was a superpower or two and he'd be the veritable epitome of 'perfect'.

Oh wait, Federico _did_ win the superpower lottery, with his werewolf powers. And that was just another thing stacked against Noah, the status as a competent EVO. Here was some special wolf boy who could help Rex in tight spots when Noah was just… a disobedient puppy or a forklift-abusing lunatic. Some choice there. Noah couldn't help but grit his teeth as Federico stopped in front of them, all sweetness and light. Rex's first action, before anyone else could get a word or a greeting in, was to grab Federico for a slightly-awkward-but-brotherly hug, one of assumed childhood memories, recent tribulations, and present excitement. Noah, in response, folded his arms and took his place behind Rex.

"Federico, you got onto the team!" Federico gave a bashful grin in response to Rex's praise.

"Yeah… I guess I did!" Even though he was slightly hesitant in responding, there was no mistaking the fact that Federico's joy was genuine.

"Are the others getting on okay now too?"

"Mm, yes… Alex and Manuel have started their shop back up here in town, but people are only just gaining enough confidence to buy from them again. Miguel has gone back to school, and Catalina's planning to head back soon too," Federico let out a breath of air that he didn't even seem to be aware he'd been holding. "Everything's finally going back to normal, thanks to you and Cesar. We can't thank you enough."

"Oh, come on. Abuela's cooking that night was thanks enough," Rex reassured Federico. Noah maintained his position in the background through the whole exchange, until finally Federico noticed the unimpressed blonde and made an apologetic face at him.

"Rex, I think you're forgetting something here," Federico said, giving the tiniest of nods at Noah. Rex turned around, scowled momentarily upon seeing Noah's body language, and then before Federico could see, switched back into his more enthusiastic, upbeat mannerisms.

"Right! Yeah, Federico? This is Noah. He's my, uh, my best friend," Noah felt slightly reassured by what Rex had tagged him as, and offered a hand to Federico.

"Pleased to meet you," Federico didn't accept it, and instead pushed it down gently.

"No need to be so formal, Noah. I think I'm going to get enough of the serious stuff from the suit guy,"

"The suit guy can probably hear you," Rex casually added, as Six, who had moved a good way away—probably to avoid the infectious bromantic aura that Rex and Federico were giving off—turned around from his conversation with Holiday and stared at Federico for several seconds. While Six's expression didn't change, the gesture said it all: _I'm watching you, were-EVO boy_. Not precisely threatening, but Rex knew well enough that any friend of his was an annoyance of Six's.

"Yep, the suit guy definitely heard me," Federico sighed.

"Suit guy's name is Six," Noah said, but immediately afterwards realized how brusque and uppity he had risked sounding. Federico noticed his tone, and seemed to draw back from him, sensing the animosity that Noah was carrying.

"Six, huh? I was expecting a 'John' or a 'Matthew', but I guess Six works too," Federico tried his best not to seem uncomfortable, but Noah's attitude seemed to be wearing down on him. "So, Rex, we've talked about me, but what about you? I haven't seen you in a few months. Cesar going okay?"

"Cesar's just fine. He's just… y'know, working on stuff. I have no idea what, none of his explanations ever make much sense," Rex said flippantly.

"Does _anything_ about Cesar _ever_ make sense?" Federico laughed.

"Not as far as I can tell!" Rex said, resting his hands on his hips and letting out a chuckle. Noah, feeling even less at ease with the situation, drew further back, his heart sinking like a stone as he mulled over the fact that the 'third wheel' vibe he had predicted… was most definitely present. And not only that, but it was a disappointing, undue one—because he knew that all things said and done, Rex had technically been his friend for longer, and had gone through hell and back with him. What had Federico done with him? Plenty of things, certainly, but the only ones Rex could remember involved him cowering and fleeing from Hunter Cain; all the other years of friendship had been erased. At that point, Rex had technically known Noah for longer. If anything Federico should've been the one awkwardly shoehorned into the scenario, but no, he evidently fit into Rex's life as neatly as a jigsaw piece inserted into its rightful place.

Maybe that was how it was supposed to go, though? Noah briefly considered the fact that, by virtue of only rarely seeing the super-powered Providence agent, Federico perhaps deserved these interactions more than Noah did—Noah who saw Rex an average of three days a week, every week, for basketball, tomfoolery and bad old video-games. Noah was 'that guy' to Rex, the one he'd always be able to count on and see when he needed most, and that gave Noah a certain status, an aura of 'the one you don't even need to think about'. He was a fixture in Rex's life which didn't need to be proven to be there. And this was just proof of how ubiquitous he was; important enough that Rex didn't feel that he needed to talk to Noah, he just needed to stand near him and that was enough.

So why did Noah feel like he, as a fixture, was being knocked off the wall? A light with a broken bulb, something useless and irrelevant now that exciting and empowered Federico was here to save the day with Rex. Noah was one for critically overthinking things in this kind of debate; importance vs. unimportance, reliability vs. exoticism, the modern age vs. history. There were a lot of signs pointing to Rex's sudden enthusiasm about Federico being a temporary thing, but Noah wasn't sure.

Luckily, before he could fall deeper into his thoughts, Holiday and Six returned to the boys.

"Good to see you've arrived, Federico," Holiday said, taking the Mexican's hand to no protest and giving it a gentle shake.

"You must be Dr. Holiday," Federico replied with his all-access passcode smile. _Damn that smile_, thought Noah.

"I am she. Thank you for agreeing to participate in our sampling,"

"Any time, Doctor. Though I must say, your boss… White Knight? His phone call was less than courteous," Federico's hand was brought up to nervously scratch the nape of his neck. "It made this sound less like an option and more like a demand."

"I'd expect nothing less from him," Holiday scoffed, closing her eyes in exasperation at the predictable rudeness of her boss. "He's not exactly the kindest man where EVOs are concerned."

"I assumed as much, from what Rex told me," Federico shrugged, as if clearing the thought of his conversation with White Knight away, and then turned to Six. "And you're Six, right?"

"Yes," Six said passively, as though not entirely sure what to make of Federico yet. Noah felt a lurch inside him at the idea of Six ending up favouring Federico too, like the others, before realizing that it was unlikely. Six didn't do favourites. Six didn't do most things. Especially fainting—that bet would be Noah's yet.

"I like your suit," it was almost a cruel thing to say, since the suit was setting itself up to be the instrument of Six's demise.

"Thank you," Six's statement was curt. Federico, unintentionally or no, had struck a nerve in the Ninja Hobo that would be hurting for quite a while. Noah performed a fistpump inside his head. There was one man, at least, who would not be walked on by Federico.

"Well," Holiday interjected, sensing something amiss between the male members of the group. The animosity between Noah, Six and Federico was so thick that Holiday could have dissected it with a scalpel, but like an inactive nanite, she couldn't see it. The atmosphere of mixed metaphors would drive her wild if left any longer. "Shall we head inside the helicarrier, Federico? All my equipment is in there."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea, Doctor," moving towards the gangway, preparing to climb it, Federico paused for a moment and motioned for Rex, who had been waiting a little way behind him, to follow. Rex did so, but as he walked away, gave a quick glance in Noah's direction. Rex, Holiday and Federico disappearing into the carrier, Noah was left standing staring after them with Six.

"Not a fan?" After several seconds of silence, it was Six who spoke.

"No, not a fan," at least with Six, Noah knew he could be honest. Part of the 'emotionless ninja-wannabe' deal seemed to be the fact that Six would never judge you for your opinions. _Seemed_, at least.

"Don't worry, Noah," Six said, finally taking a step forwards towards the gangway. "He may be saccharine as a Disney movie, but you've got something he doesn't."

"And what's that?"

"You try," it was obtuse, but it sounded good enough. "And Rex needs someone who tries."

Great, except for the fact that, as Six disappeared into the helicarrier, Noah had an overwhelming feeling that there was a double meaning to what Six had said. And it was a double meaning that made him twitch, uncomfortably but also knowingly.

He knew there were a lot of different ways he could be needed.


	2. Supermarkets and Misery

Going out to get snacks was one of the better choices Noah made that morning. At the cusp of midday, after twenty minutes of watching Holiday, Rex and Federico discussing evolution and mutation of nanites and how it was fascinating that they reacted with this condition and that condition, Noah decided he had finally had enough of their scientific bonding session, and had loudly declared that he was going to go and find a shop to buy them all lunch from. No-one argued, probably because none of the Providence members had even had breakfast, and thus, Noah was excused from the tedium and boredom of science. Brilliant.

Except for the fact that now he was lost in the middle of a Mexican town, no-one he'd tried to talk to had spoken any English past 'hello' and 'I don't understand', and he was beginning to doubt that there even _was_ a shop that sold food. He'd found four sit-down restaurants, three clothing stores, a gardening centre and a sports shop, but evidently, asking for a supermarket or even just a good old fashioned corner store was too much. The icing on the cake had been when the sports shop apparently tried to offer him a pair of shorts as an alternative for his jeans. Was Mexico designed specifically to humiliate he and Six for their choice of clothes? It was looking like a possibility.

Venturing down an unfamiliar street, Noah sighed as he saw a tourist shop—of all things. Some of the signs littered around the place seemed to suggest that the town was famous for being built at the foot of a long-dormant volcano, so Noah's best guess was that the store would sell rocks, perhaps, or maybe t-shirts with pictures of the town hall on them: it was, after all, the only noteworthy building in the area. A little further down, peeking out from behind a wilting, autumnal tree, was a glassware shop, with tiny rainbow bottles in one window and an open, inviting doorway. Noah felt annoyance build up inside him. Glass knick-knacks over food! What was wrong with this place!

Plenty of things, it seemed, because mere moments later he noticed a suspicious shadow slinking silently into an alleyway. Not a noteworthy thing to see, until you took into account a few of the features of the shadow. It was a good eight feet tall, mechanical, blue, and with a waist-length mane of white hair: in a nutshell, fairly blatantly not human—and not just any kind of inhuman creature, an EVO. Even then, not just any EVO.

Noah's pace picked up from a stroll to a sprint as he made for the alleyway, intending to find out why the Pack was showing up in the middle of Mexico, though not entirely surprised that they had. They had a nasty habit of appearing wherever Rex did. Skidding around the corner and down between the pair of stone buildings that made each wall of the small passage, Noah frowned as he saw a flash of red light at the opposite end.

"Breach," he whispered, freezing in place as he began to realize the implications of Biowulf being teleported away. They had probably seen him. And being noticed by the Pack would _not_ end well. Not that he could avoid the consequences of that now, though. If they wanted to make a move, they would. _But—_Noah tensed even more. _But_ what would they want with him, if they confronted each other? He wasn't a threat. Getting into a fight with an unarmed Noah was about as dangerous as getting into a fight with a Pomeranian.

Taking another step into the alleyway, Noah felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up—not from fear, but from a surprisingly cold breeze blowing in. Wind tunnel effect, maybe? He tried to shrug it off, but something told him not to ignore it completely. Turning slowly at first, then catching a glimpse of red and turning more quickly, Noah let out a gasp as he saw one of Breach's four hands reaching out for him and grabbing his shoulders. Wrenched backwards through her portal, Noah tumbled, and, failing to catch himself, landed hard on the soil of Abyssus. No sooner had he collapsed than Biowulf appeared suddenly from behind him, grabbing both of Noah's arms and yanking him to his feet. The biomechanical EVO let out a snort of amusement.

"Looks like we've caught Rex's little pet," he said, and while Noah at first assumed Biowulf was talking to Breach, he soon noticed Van Kleiss emerging from the darkness nearby, a grimace spread across his face. "He was following me around like the clueless puppy he is."

"Ah," Van Kleiss sounded disappointed. "I must say, young Noah is not someone I was expecting to see."

"Well, that makes two of us," Noah replied, his brow furrowing.

"Never you mind, Noah," Van Kleiss spread his arms wide open and smiled, though the warmth didn't spread to his scarlet eyes. "I think you'll find that in Abyssus, even our unexpected guests are treated excellently."

"Yeah," Noah said. "If by 'excellently' you mean the exact opposite, then sure, you're as good a host as they come."

"No need to get snarky with me," ceasing feigning a jovial expression, Van Kleiss held his clawed hand threateningly at Noah. "I'm perfectly happy to end the banter and add you to my garden display. I just thought that, perhaps since I wasn't intending to do anything to you in the first place, I might be able to let you go free."

"Mercy? Oh ho, isn't that rich," intimidated by the claw, though loath to admit it, Noah tried vaguely to wriggle his arms out of Biowulf's grasp, but was unsuccessful. "The only way you'd let me free is if I was a statue or an EVO again. I'm not keen on either of those options."

"Noah, Noah, Noah," Van Kleiss said, shaking his head gently. "Harming you isn't in my interests today. I asked Biowulf to do some reconnaissance, you were mixed up in it… really, the worst thing I could do right now is kill you."

"Yeah? Really reassuring,"

"I'm serious as the plague," Van Kleiss responded. "Getting Rex up in arms at present is definitely not my goal. And he would most _certainly_ be up in arms if I left another mark on his precious little blonde boy." Noah wasn't sure what was more insulting—being treated as some kind of possession of Rex's, or being called a 'precious little blonde boy'.

"Don't talk about me like I'm just some object,"

"Oh, Noah," Van Kleiss cooed. "But you are, aren't you? I have yet to see you do anything particularly useful. You're just the safety blanket Rex drags around to make himself feel better." Noah was getting angry—he shook harder against Biowulf, as if desperate to show he was strong enough to do something, _anything_—anything other than being the useless emotional support guy.

"That's not true. I—"

"You are completely superfluous. Completely… useless," advancing closed to Noah, Van Kleiss placed the palm of his clawed, mechanical hand against the right side of Noah's chest. Noah flinched back, but couldn't get away. Van Kleiss smiled again, but this time, it was genuine. "And this? This is proof of that." To any onlookers—if there had been any save for the Pack—there wouldn't be anything significant about Van Kleiss' words, but Noah knew what the man was referring to. Directly beneath where the claws were touching his shirt, there was an angry, red, hand-shaped scar—evidence of the night Noah had spent as an EVO, and how powerless Noah had been to get away from Van Kleiss then.

Not that he had entirely wanted to escape. Though he would never admit it to Van Kleiss, and though he had only half-admitted it to Rex, Noah had wanted to see what it would be like to be one of the monsters Providence hunted. Partially just as a fun story to tell, but mostly in the hopes of maybe, just maybe, turning out to be something useful, so he could get away from his normal life for good and join Rex, Six and Bobo in fighting the good fight.

Sure, he could—in fact, probably would—go back to Basic and become one of the masses of black-and-white faceless soldiers, but what then? He wouldn't get to see his friends. He might get killed on the job like so many others. That wasn't something Noah wanted. He liked attention, he liked being his own person—he liked his position as Rex's best friend, getting to fraternize with the most famous EVO on the planet. Pulling on the masked outfit all the Providence grunts wore wouldn't suit him. But he still wanted to help, and the more and more time he spent with Rex, the more he realized the void separating them: Noah was a burden, and one Rex couldn't always bear.

So of course, at the time, it had seemed like becoming an EVO might've been a good thing. In the end, it hadn't been: actually, Noah was even more useless that way than he was normally. But the memory of how he had felt stayed on with him and as time had gone by, the months dragging past, the whole idea of maybe being helpful had become sort of retrospectively silly. Because Noah wasn't helpful—never had been, never would be. And Van Kleiss reminding him of that was like a sucker punch straight to Noah's heart. No-one took him seriously as a threat, no-one found him a help to have around… and the only thing he was good for was being the cheerleader. Joy.

"Ah, I seem to have struck a nerve," after watching Noah's emotions flicker through his eyes for several seconds, Van Kleiss spoke again. "Yes, Noah. You're nothing but a child in over his head, who insists on tagging along with daddy to work." Something seemed wrong with that analogy, to both Van Kleiss and his prey, however.

"Hm… or perhaps that's the wrong way of phrasing it?" Van Kleiss took a small breath, trying to gain a proper reading of Noah and Rex's relationship. "… Giving it a moment of consideration, you're more like a very insistent woman trying to ensure her husband doesn't get into trouble. For a pair of teenage boys, I must say, the pair of you bicker like a married couple." Noah bit into his lip at Van Kleiss' worrying analysis of his friendship with Rex.

"Ahh well, never you mind that, Noah," Van Kleiss said. "In any event, I'm not especially worried about whatever you decide to do with the knowledge of our presence in Mexico. Tell Rex, don't—it's all your choice."

"Oh, trust me," Noah had finally regained enough composure to speak. "I'm _definitely_ going to tell him."

"I didn't expect anything less from his lapdog," Van Kleiss gestured for Biowulf to release the teenager, and the EVO complied. "Breach, take him back." The girl nodded in agreement, and opened a large red portal with one of her arms.

"I guess I'll see you soon," Noah said. "Knowing you, it's not going to be too long until you shove your nose where it doesn't belong." Van Kleiss chortled at Noah's remark.

"And knowing you, Noah, I can look forward to finding a forklift embedded in me when I do," Noah started to walk through the gate Breach had opened, eyeing Van Kleiss warily as he did.

"Goodbye!" With an eerie wave and a grin that seemed far too confident, Van Kleiss saw Noah off. Stepping back into Mexico, Noah gave a great shudder, falling sideways onto a wall to one side of him. He was not suited to situations like the one he had just been in—most people weren't, funnily enough. Taking several gasps for air, as though he had been starved of it in Abyssus, Noah tried to regain the feeling in his legs, which had almost turned to jelly. He gently massaged his wrists, which Biowulf had dug into and left gashes in while trying to prevent Noah from struggling. He felt his insides seize up in relief. He'd been kidnapped to Abyssus and nothing bad had happened to him. _He was okay_.

And there was more to celebrate than that. Looking up ahead of him, he saw a clean, white building rising up from the ground. He saw the promised land—he saw the supermarket.

"Yes!" He yelled in triumph, momentarily forgetting the ordeal he had just been in. In a burst of speed, Noah ran across the street, dodging a group of locals strolling down it, and almost collided into the door of the shop. Scrambling to work the handle, Noah eventually managed to click it open, and then slipped inside. Several aisles of food spread out before him—it wasn't a large establishment, but it had what he needed.

First was aisle 8—one of the end rows—where he found yoghurt for Holiday, and from there he worked his way back down to aisle 1. Into his arms went corn chips for Rex, a bran muffin for Six, and a salad for Federico. Finally, he found a selection of sandwiches, cookies and drinks for everyone to keep them going for the rest of the day: he didn't want to try and find the supermarket again. Taking his purchases up to the counter and murmuring a vague 'hola' to the cashier, Noah tipped all the money Holiday had given him out, and began to try and figure out how to count it.

After getting some help from an elderly woman who—good lord!—spoke English, Noah was able to pay for his purchase and get out of the store. However, as soon as he was out on the footpath, he realized another predicament he would have to face: finding the helicarrier again. Looking left and right up the street in the hopes of getting an idea of where to go, it took Noah all his might not to slap himself across the forehead as he realized that the course was very obvious.

The helicarrier was right there: just down the other end of the street, parked in an empty lot. The supermarket had been down the road the whole time—but he'd gone in the wrong direction! Augh! Stomping back towards the Providence base, Noah's frustration was plain to see. He had been horribly, embarrassingly lost, then kidnapped, and then spent twenty minutes with a Mexican lady trying to figure out the difference between various pesos. It was _not_ his day.

Entering the helicarrier, Noah let out a loud, strangled cry.

"_I can't take this anymore_!" nearby, Rex, Federico and Holiday turned to face Noah with raised eyebrows.

"Have a nice trip to the supermarket, _amigo_?" Rex asked, tempting fate.

"No. No, I did _not_," Noah spat, using his free hand to draw Rex's corn chips from the bag and throw them at his face. Rex, startled, caught the bag of delicious snacks as they fell, and then looked quizzically back at his best friend.

"What went wrong?" that was most definitely the last straw.

"_What went wrong_?" Noah barked. "Oh, I'll tell you _what went wrong_! I went the wrong way up the street, got ambushed by a sports shop clerk trying to peddle me shorts, found a shop selling glass bottles—who buys glass bottles?—but no supermarket! And then Biowulf and Breach show up out of nowhere and kidnap me to Abyssus for ten minutes where I get manhandled by Van Kleiss before being let go because apparently, they kidnapped me _accidentally_, before being returned to Mexico where I discover that pesos make _absolutely _no sense, and we were parked near the supermarket the whole time anyway. Do you see now? _Do you see now_?"

Everyone stood in stunned silence. Six emerged from the other room, summoned by the noise, but like the others felt no compulsion to do anything other than stare. Noah, fists clenched and teeth bared, huffed in and out, wearing an expression that seemed to _dare_ his friends to make a sound. Just _try_ and trivialize his horrible suffering.

"… Who's Van Kleiss?" and of course, it was naïve Federico who interrupted the quiet that had fallen. Before Noah could fly off into another rage, Holiday motioned for him to calm down, and turned to Federico with warm, apologetic eyes.

"Van Kleiss is a humanoid EVO, like Rex. He rules Abyssus, where the nanite explosion originated from, and uses the EVOs he gathers there to launch terrorist attacks on the rest of the world," Holiday said. "He's an EVO supremacist, as far as we can tell. He seems to want to see the world dominated by them. Unfortunately, he has the power to force-activate people's inactive nanites, so he could easily have his goals fulfilled."

"Wow. Heavy stuff," Federico said, then turned to Noah and beamed. "Lucky you got away then, isn't it, Noah?"

"Not really. He'll be back soon,"

"Yeah, Noah's right," Rex agreed, strolling over to the blonde and prying the shopping bags from his hand. Placing them on a seat behind him, Rex gave a firm nod of his head. "Van Kleiss never just shows up somewhere and lets it alone. We're going to have _un gran problema_ here soon."

"The question is, though, what is he planning?" Six finally had some input for the conversation. "Noah, he didn't mention anything while you were in Abyssus, did he?" Noah shook his head.

"Nope. All he did was taunt me and—" Noah stopped, not really sure how to summarize the very homoerotic implications of the latter half of his conversation with the megalomaniacal EVO. "—well, you know." There was an awkward grin on Noah's face that he was desperately trying to downplay.

"The usual Van Kleiss stuff," Noah concluded, Rex noticing his bizarre smirk and matching it with a questioning tilt of his head. Noah returned with a nod imperceptible to anyone but Rex, who had carefully trained to recognise standard Noah Nixon behaviour in their many visits to the Snack Shack.

"In any case," said Holiday, "we have to be on our guard. I've still got tests to run, and Federico still has his game to play—we're stuck in Mexico for another eight hours at the least, and that's plenty of time for Van Kleiss to try and pull something."

"Understood," Federico said.

"Noah and I'll keep watch outside for a while?" Rex offered. Six and Holiday shared a glance, then Six spoke.

"That's a good plan. You two don't have anything better to do around here anyway,"

"Great! Come on Noah, let's go enjoy the sun," Rex grabbed Noah by his wrists, which were still tender and raw from his encounter with Biowulf. Noah let out a small gasp of pain. "Oops." Looking down at his friend's arms, Rex seemed to feel a bit of guilt.

"Sorry about that. Looks like you got a bit roughed up in Abyssus?" he inquired.

"Yeah. Biowulf. You know how it is," pulling his hands back and rubbing at them as he had done earlier, Noah shrugged. No big deal—just a usual thing. EVOs, getting kidnapped. Happens all the time! Rex seemed to understand, and left it alone.

Just as they began to walk away, Noah remembered the food he had bought, and dodged back towards it, pulling Six's shrink-wrapped muffin out and throwing it gently to the ninja. Six caught it effortlessly.

"Bran and blueberry?" he said, a hint of sadness in his voice. Noah shuffled guiltily as he noticed Six's disappointment.

"I thought you'd like it, but I guess I was wrong. Holiday, there's yoghurt in there for you, and Federico, I got you some salad—didn't know what you eat so I decided to play it safe," from the way Federico's face scrunched up, Noah could tell he'd chosen wrong. Oh well, too bad.

"Thank you, Noah," Holiday said. Noah gave a weak grin, and then pursued Rex out of the helicarrier, oddly excited for the guard duty that was to follow.


End file.
